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Strap into your retro rockets as we blast into the heart of Cold War paranoia, with a little boy who befriends what may or may not be a Soviet weapon of mass destruction. Dodging shady government agents and navigating boyhood travails, our young hero tries to prove that giants can have hearts too. Its essentially a hardcore Mary Poppins, with fewer umbrella rides and more inter-galactic hiccup-solving.

The movies subtle charm lies in Mikeys gap-toothed grin, mouthy Chunks unexpected heroism, and Datas hilariously ineffective gadgets. Its a gloriously rambling ride where every absurdity is digested with Spielbergs magical pizzazz. Yes, it teeters on ludicrous, but thats the beauty!

The charming allure of this flick lies less in its plot and more in the deafening roars of engines, the blur of hypnotically spinning wheel rims, and the existential debates about what constitutes a quarter mile. Its a testosterone-tango of fast cars and faster women, framed in an excellently shot playground of urban snarl and grease.

Lets journey into a tundra of Christmas excess where elf labor is rife, creepy marionettes perform disturbing dances and festive cheer is somewhat forced on you like the last, lonely Brussels sprout at Christmas dinner. This kaleidoscope of craziness, driven by Chuck star Freight Engine Tom Hanks, who plays, err, everyone – or almost, is a blizzard of digital wizardry and motion capture technology, where humans look almost real, but not quite.

So, our leading treat, Jimmy Stewart – plays a bewildered, batty detective; his performance is so hypnotically droll that you start experimenting vertigo symptoms. And our femme fatale, Kim Novak – tantalizingly cryptic, youd swear she was aghast at her own reflection. Dry your sweaty palms and pray your stabilizing fins hold out, kids!

In this laughable symphony of brain-munching, the not-so-medieval dame, Milla Jovovich, breaks the laws of gravity as easily as she breaks zombie skulls. She deftly outmaneuvers what appear to be genetically-engineered super-zombies, with the finesse of a ballerina sporting combat boots. The fun truly begins when scientists – who apparently have more dollars than sense – decide to play God.

Amidst a buffet of bullets, Joe Pesci cooks up a feast for the eyes with his portrayal of a trigger-happy made man. Meanwhile, De Niro’s smooth operator is cooler than your grandmother’s cannoli. ‘GoodFellas’—where toothpicks are mandatory and yuppies like us get schooled in mook etiquette.

In this gloriously disordered odyssey, you wonder if the script was written on a treadmill. The story pivots from humor to heartbreak faster than a Hollywood retake, pushing the cinematic envelope until it screams uncle. Delicate themes of quantum weirdness are delivered with the grace of a squashed tomato, yet youll find yourself oddly compelled.

Just when you thought Cruises hair couldnt get any longer, he’s back with some gravity-defying antics. He’s hanging off planes, scaling skyscrapers, and infiltrating secret bases. All while attempting to maintain a believable romantic subplot.

Its clear the franchise decided to take a detour from a serious galaxy-conquering horror to embrace a slightly more comical route, and boy does it happen with gusto. Our xenophobic alien pals join forces with Ripleys new clone – now part (spoiler alert) alien – for a space opera that tickles your funny bone, chills your spine and leaves your head firmly in the twilight zone.